Page 52 of Fear the Reapers

“How are you feeling?”

“Like someone turned me into a pincushion,” he groaned.

“That’s probably because someone did.”

I got up, poured him a glass of water from the pitcher next to his bed, and passed it to him.

“Thanks.” He took a sip, and asked, “Where am I?”

“In the hospital.”

“Karsen?”

“She’s at home with Ana and the kids.”

He breathed out a sigh of relief. “She wasn’t with me.”

“Is she usually there with you?”

“On Wednesdays, her mom has her AA meeting, so she can’t look after her.”

“I didn’t know she was still going to those.”

“She’s scared if she doesn’t that she’ll find an unhealthy substitution.”

“It’s great she recognizes that.”

“Yeah.”

“I know you’ve been through a lot, but do you think you could answer a couple of questions?”

He chuckled, then groaned. “If I didn’t know you like I did, I’d say you sounded a lot like a cop.”

“Spending too much time with one, I guess.”

He shook his head.

“Was it the Crows?” I asked.

“No, I don’t think so.”

“Are you sure it wasn’t, because someone set the bar of the clubhouse on fire and stashed meth in the office.”

“Seriously? Was anyone hurt?”

I explained everything I knew up to this point. We still didn’t know who it was, but everyone thought it had something to do with the Crows. The last thing any of us wanted was an all-out biker war, but it felt like everything was culminating in that direction.

“If it wasn’t them, then who do you suspect?”

“It was some assholes I found lurking around my parking lot.”

“Why did they attack you?”

“I caught them using my property to peddle their meth, so I politely asked them to leave.” He chuckled, then winced.

“Which means you told them to get their lily white asses off your property before you physically removed them?”

“Exactly.”

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